


best friends, ex-friends 'til the end

by hangyulgod



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Friends to Lovers, Getting Back Together, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, M/M, Misunderstandings, Past Relationship(s), exes to friends to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29327127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hangyulgod/pseuds/hangyulgod
Summary: better off as lovers, and not the other way around.
Relationships: Ko Shinwon/Lee Hwitaek | Hui
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	best friends, ex-friends 'til the end

**Author's Note:**

> this took. longer than i thought i would and im not quite satisfied with the end product but ngl i dont have the time to change it nor do i have the heart to delete 12k of pure bullshit anyways 
> 
> this fic is inspired by  
> a) 2017 huiwon  
> b) pete wentz  
> c) my inability to do actually important things and writing is a good way of procrastination which makes me feel productive
> 
> im sry about all the fake deepness that this fic has ive not been satisfied with my writing lately and this was a failed attempt to change that
> 
> btw this is most likely my last fic, at least in a while but dont take my word for it lol
> 
> english is not my first language so pls be kind! 
> 
> title from [bang the doldrums](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_uUJxv48flw) by fall out boy

Recently, Shinwon notices, Hwitaek has been distant. Not distant as in he is completely detached, but it is still enough to raise brows. After all, Hwitaek lives off affection — back then, he would have sulked all day if no one gave him a hug (that doesn’t happen often, because Yuto practically treats Hwitaek as his teddy bear). Now, though, Hwitaek barely asks for hugs anymore, and only gives them when it is necessary. It used to be Hwitaek who would pout and whine until he had gotten his daily dose of skinship, but now Shinwon realizes that he is the one to cling to the older man more, and if there’s one thing he hates, it is being clingy. It’s not that he hates physical contact, it’s just that he has a reputation and that does not include being clingy. That’s Hwitaek’s thing, and Shinwon is, on several occasions, the subject of the older man’s affection, but not the other way round. 

Shinwon would bring it up, but Hwitaek has been so busy lately that they barely see each other anymore after whatever schedule they have together. And, Shinwon has always been prone to overthinking, and if he had even dared to ask, Hwitaek would simply press his lips together into a small, tight-lipped smile, pat his shoulder in a wistful way, and tell him that there’s nothing wrong. Even if there _is_ something wrong, the older man wouldn’t say — he tends to hide a lot of secrets from everyone, especially ones about his feelings. Jinho had said that it was some kind of leader complex, before he had left for the military and was drunk off four soju shots, in a small barbeque shop tucked away in Cheongdam-dong with Shinwon and Hyunggu. He had said, his hand gripped around a soju glass, _look, you two, take care of Hwitaekie when I leave, okay?_ Then he had shifted his gaze directly at Shinwon, looking at him pointedly, _especially you, Shinwon-ah. Take care of Hui._

That day, Shinwon was reasonably tipsy off two shots of soju, but Jinho’s words made him recoil a bit anyway. He remembers muttering something about how Hwitaek was too stubborn for that anyway, then Jinho had sighed and said the thing about leader complexes. That’s something that was constantly on the back of Shinwon’s mind ever since, and it holds him back from trying to take care of Hwitaek because he is so, so scared of rejection — especially from the older man. So, like how he definitely should be doing, he pretends not to notice how Hwitaek is increasingly distant with everyone else.

And, so, when Hwitaek comes back to the dorms late at night, eyes drooping and shoulders sagging, Shinwon only does so much as to stare at him from the living room, the lights half off and his hair half on his face.

Hwitaek clicks the door shut quietly and toes off his shoes. He tosses his mask into the bin and looks up into the living room, grimacing, “You’re still awake?”  
  


He had been waiting up for Hwitaek, but the older man doesn’t have to know that. Instead, Shinwon says, “I couldn’t sleep.”  
  


The older man nods understandingly as he shuffles into the kitchen, pouring himself a mug of water. He walks into the living room and sits at the foot of the couch after, stretching out his legs. Shinwon watches for another moment before he asks casually, “You’ve got a musical today, right?”  
  


“Last show,” Hwitaek nods, “I’m finally done with it.”  
  


“Congratulations,” Shinwon nods too, sneaking a look at the older man, and offers meekly, “You did really well, hyung.”  
  


Hwitaek smiles for the first time that night, “Yeah?”

Shinwon nudges the side of the older man’s thigh with his foot, smiling back, “Yeah. I really enjoyed the show I went to.”  
  


The older man hums, taking a long sip of his water. Then he looks up at Shinwon and there is a frown etched on his face, “We all went to get jjimdak after the last show but I didn’t have much.”  
  


“You are still on that diet?” Shinwon furrows his brows disapprovingly, and chides, “It’s just one day, hyung. S’not gonna hurt.”  
  
“Comeback is in two weeks, Shinwon-ah,” Hwitaek reminds him, his tongue darting out to lick at his chapped lips. He takes another sip of his water, “I can save cheat days for later. Don’t we have that eating show next week? And we’re going to Chuncheon. I want dakgalbi.”  
  


The mention of dakgalbi is enough to make Shinwon’s mouth water, and he lets Hwitaek’s insistence on a protein-only diet slide for once. He clicks his tongue, “You should buy us all a meal. Dakgalbi sounds nice.”  
  


“Yah, since when do I not buy you meals?” Hwitaek protests, indignant, “Everytime we go out for dinner it’s me who is paying, you brat.”  
  
“Not recently,” Shinwon can’t help but respond bitterly, “You’ve been so busy that we can barely eat together anymore.”  
  


Hwitaek softens, and taps on the younger man’s calf with his free hand, “Hey. You know it’s just temporary. I’m gonna be a lot less busy now. The musical’s over, you see.”

“What about _Lotto Singer?”_ Shinwon reminds him, and he tries hard to not stare at Hwitaek’s hand lingering on his leg, warm and gentle, “You’ve been so busy lately that we haven’t seen you around in the dorms.”  
  


“Well, I’m here now,” Hwitaek dismisses, and he pulls his hand away, “I’m gonna buy you all dinner before comeback, okay?”  
  


It’s really not just about a free meal, but Shinwon is reminded of his conversation with Jinho and so he holds his tongue (Jinho would probably be disappointed if he knows, really). He feigns a yawn, “It’s really late. I think I’m gonna go to sleep.”  
  


Standing up from the couch, Hwitaek presses his lips together into a small, tight-lipped smile. He sets down his mug on the coffee table and nods in lieu of a goodnight, before he turns the living room lights off completely and disappears into the darkness of the corridor.

When Hwitaek is out of earshot, Shinwon finally heaves out a long sigh. Waiting up for Hwitaek had never been like this — a year ago, maybe, when Hwitaek returned home, he would refuse to go back to his bedroom until he had gotten a hug from Shinwon. Two years ago, it would have been Shinwon who is dragging a sullen Hwitaek home. Three years ago (and Shinwon doesn’t like to think about the things that happened three years ago), they would be returning home _together,_ hands linked and mouths swollen. Now, waiting up for Hwitaek only means casual small talk with the older, and it stings a little because small talk is the last thing they needed. 

Shinwon closes his eyes and tugs his blanket over his shoulders. It’s a long night. 

-

The comeback goes by swimmingly. The first two weeks of promotions are nothing but a happy blur to Shinwon: between the love they have been receiving for their new song, their first ever music show win, and schedules that he genuinely enjoys, he has never been happier. If you ask him what is one thing he wishes could change, though, is the fact that Hwitaek is still distancing himself from the members. But it seems that it is only him who notices because no one really says anything about it, and maybe he _is_ just overthinking. 

That, however, doesn’t stop him from staying close to Hwitaek whenever he can. It doesn’t raise brows because they usually sit next to each other anyway, but Shinwon finds himself a lot more clingy than he would usually want to be.

An opportunity comes when they have a radio show to appear on, just him and Hwitaek and Wooseok. The cameras aren’t on so they are all dressed casually, and Hwitaek is wearing a beanie which makes him look extra warm, his legs stretched out as he laughs along to a funny story Wooseok is telling the radio host about. 

Hwitaek has been complaining about having stomatitis for a while now, and he manages to sneak it into the questionnaire they had to fill in before the show (not that Shinwon was sneaking looks at the paper). He is careful as he grips a pen in his hand to scribble down his answers, his eyes focused on the questionnaire. Something about the older man that night makes him even more endearing than usual, like he is asking to be held, and when the radio host directs his attention towards Wooseok at one point, Shinwon reaches over under the desk and holds Hwitaek’s hand in his.

The older man, who had been curling and uncurling his hand around the fabric of his jeans restlessly, freezes just a little. Shinwon only shifts his hand so that their fingers are interlocked, but doesn’t move away. The radio host is turning to him now, and asks him something about something he wrote on his questionnaire.

His hand still locked with Hwitaek’s, Shinwon nods along, “Yeah, it feels like I’m losing a screw lately.”

The radio host leans in just slightly with interest, “Oh? But you seem fine to me now.”

“Yeah, during schedules I feel fine but after that I just feel like I’ve lost a screw.”  
  


“Maybe because it’s autumn now,” the radio host suggests sympathetically from behind his glasses, fixing his microphone. Shinwon wonders if he could see how Hwitaek’s hand is enclosed in his.

But Shinwon is a professional idol before anything else, so he just nods along again, “I guess so. It’s cold lately, you see.”  
  


Something mischievous sparkles in the host’s eyes, “Maybe Hui-ssi can give you some skinship to warm you up.”  
  


Maybe he should care a little bit more, be a little more alarmed, but Shinwon only laughs at the remark. He remembers that the last time they were on the same radio show, he had complained about how Hwitaek loved skinship. Hwitaek, beside him, laughs along too, no longer trying to pull his hand away.

“Is Hui-ssi still into skinship?”

Shinwon squeezes Hwitaek’s hand, and says, “Nah, Hui-hyung hasn’t been as into it lately. I think it’s me who is more clingy now.”  
  


Under the table, Hwitaek squeezes his hand back. The radio host diverts his attention back to Wooseok, and that’s when the older man turns around with raised brows, a silent question.

The younger man only shrugs in response, giving Hwitaek a small smile. If anything, he holds onto his hand even tighter. Maybe the radio host has noticed, maybe Wooseok did too, but really, he doesn’t really care.

They don’t talk about it, not at all. Not when they take pictures with the nice radio host, not when they squeeze into their manager’s car to drive back to the company. Shinwon wonders if he should say something but ultimately decides that he doesn’t need to. When they go back to the company, Hwitaek is the first to wave goodbye and disappear into his studio.

As soon as Hwitaek is no longer there, Wooseok gives him a _look._ Shinwon only looks back blankly, feigning confusion until the youngest member of their group sighs in defeat, “Are you and Hui-hyung okay now?”

“What do you mean? We have always been okay,” Shinwon asks, pretending not to notice the other’s unamused expression. He sighs, “It’s not a big deal, Wooseok-ah.”  
  


Wooseok shakes his head disapprovingly, “It kind of is. Why are my hyungs so weird?”

“Hey, we’re not weird,” Shinwon frowns, but then morphs his mouth into something that he hopes is a smile, “It really isn’t a big deal.”

“So you two holding hands _in public_ during a schedule isn’t a big deal?”  
  


“Yeah?” Shinwon laughs, “It’s not like Hui-hyung isn’t clingy.”

Wooseok regards him with steady eyes, “I think it’s on you this time, Shinwonie-hyung.”

“Maybe I just wanted to hold someone’s hand,” Shinwon offers nonchalantly. He slaps the younger’s chest with the back of his hand cheerily, “Don’t think too much, maknae. I’m gonna go look for Hui-hyung.”  
  


The younger only shakes his head again, walking away. Shinwon doesn’t give it an afterthought and instead takes off to Hwitaek’s studio, where the older man had told him to meet him earlier that day.

“Hyung?” Shinwon pokes his head into the room, eliciting a surprised noise from the older. 

Hwitaek waves him in after the initial surprise, gesturing at a chair and getting him to sit down.

“I finished arranging the song for the concert,” Hwitaek tells him as he clicks open a file on his computer, “Do you want to hear it?”

“The concert?”

Hwitaek rolls his eyes at Shinwon, though an amused smile teases at his lips. He waves his hand in front of the younger’s eyes, “Shinwon-ah, we’re holding a concert next month. Don’t tell me you forgot.”

Shinwon huffs out a laugh, “Right. I’m just really tired, hyung. Show me the song.”

“Feeling like you’re losing a screw?” Hwitaek responds sympathetically, but he clicks play anyway. When it starts playing through the speakers, Shinwon isn’t hit with anything unfamiliar. He had been there most times when the song was being written — it was _their_ song, after all.

He remembers that, last month, when they had decided to do a subunit stage together for the concert, he had been really excited. It is his wish to do a stage with Hwitaek only before the older leaves for the military, after all. But after the excitement had died down, both him and Hwitaek were pulling their hair out to come up with something that they could do together. Unlike Hyunggu and Changgu, they were not exactly sensual dancers (Shinwon isn’t, anyway. Hwitaek is good at dancing and can probably pull it off if he wanted to, from those long long years of practice, but he usually doesn’t), it was clear that Hongseok and Yanan would be singing a ballad together and it would just be boring to have two ballad stages, and they also weren’t the best rappers on the team. Shinwon remembers suggesting that they did a trot stage and performed their own rendition of _All Eyes on Me,_ and Hwitaek had smacked him on the chest for that. Eventually they had decided on a rock song, using a beat Hwitaek had made too-long ago. Shinwon had been confused _(“but you don’t even like rock music, hyung”)_ and Hwitaek had been dismissive _(“well, I like it now”),_ but Shinwon would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy with what they settled on. 

The song sounds just like how they both wanted it to be, so Shinwon smiles down at Hwitaek, “It’s good. The stage would be amazing, I can tell.”

“Yeah?” Hwitaek smiles back, and begins to stand up, stretching out his arms, “There’s probably a free practice room somewhere. We can start thinking about the performance.”  
  


While Shinwon has major difficulty in saying no to Hwitaek, he _really_ does not want to be practicing right now. So he reaches up from his chair and closes his hand around Hwitaek’s bicep, “Hyung, please. Let’s do it another day.”  
  


Shinwon can feel the older’s muscles shifting beneath his hand, and he holds on a little tighter. Hwitaek’s eyes drop to his arm and he eventually gives in with a sigh, “Fine.”  
  


Stepping away from Shinwon’s touch, Hwitaek leans closer to his computer and shuts it down, “Should we go back to the dorms now, then?”

“You’re going back to the dorms now?” Shinwon says, astounded. It’s not usual that the older man would go home _this_ early — it’s not even midnight.

Hwitaek raises an eyebrow, “I can stay for longer.”

“No, no,” Shinwon is quick to shake his head, and he reaches out to hold onto Hwitaek’s wrist, as if he was scared that the older man would be gone if he didn’t, “Let’s go home.”  
  


The older man laughs, but he breaks free of Shinwon’s grip to grab his phone on the table, shoving it into his pocket, “Let’s go.”

They still don’t talk about it. Shinwon figures that there isn’t a need to — if Hwitaek had found something wrong with it, he would have said something. But, even if they are still acting mostly normal around each other, there is some sort of tension between them, like how it feels when a taut rubber band is on the verge of snapping into half and you are bracing for the impact. There are times when Hwitaek would look at him for a long time with an indecipherable expression, when the two of them are busy joking around about something and pretending that everything is normal, before he snaps out of it and carries on to make a not-so-funny joke which Shinwon dutifully laughs at. 

The (metaphorical) rubber band, eventually, snaps on Halloween. It’s been almost a week since that day, not that it matters, and they are supposed to perform on Music Core. The stylist dresses them in vampire costumes because MBC has specified “occasion-appropriate attire”, which is just a fancy way of saying that they should dress up for Halloween. Hwitaek’s mood is often noticeably better whenever they have a schedule in MBC recently, because he gets to talk to the nice staff he met from _Favorite Entertainment_ that he sees around in the broadcast station. Right now, he is talking animatedly to Yuto about how the last time they were there, MBC had given them a giant banner to congratulate their comeback in their dressing room, as a stylist carefully paints a spider web on the rapper’s neck. 

Hwitaek is clad in a white shirt, loosely hanging off his body, and a black vest enclosing his waist. His lipstick is smudged on the corner of his mouth, a dark red hue that contrasts nicely against his skin. Shinwon thinks to himself that the older man looks _really fucking good,_ so he stares a lot more than he should, until he realizes how creepy that is, so he excuses himself to the bathroom just to get away from the older for a while.

“Hey, wait up for me.”

  
  
Shinwon turns around to see a smiley Hwitaek, and raises an eyebrow. The older lifts his hand up to show off a smear of black paint on the side of his palm, “I got some paint onto my hand.”

“Oh,” Shinwon nods, and he gestures with his own hand vaguely too, “Cool. I’ve been meaning to wash my hands as well.”

The older man laughs at him and pushes him along with his clean hand. They don’t talk after that, and it is only when Hwitaek looks up from the sink, his hands still wet, that he furrows his brows at the sight of Shinwon.

The water had been freezing, enough to make Shinwon a lot less Hwitaek-hazy, but he notices the man’s eyes on him anyway, “What?”

Hwitaek wipes his hand delicately on a paper towel, tossing it into the bin. He reaches up to straighten Shinwon’s tie for him, “Your tie’s all messy. Don’t tell me you’re going to go on stage like that.”

The younger man looks down onto his now-straightened tie, and shrugs dismissively, “Someone would have fixed it for me anyway. See, you did that just now.”

Rolling his eyes, Hwitaek places his palms on the center of Shinwon’s chest and shoves him gently, exasperated yet fond. Shinwon shoves him back without needing to think much of it. It’s like muscle memory at this point: when Hwitaek wants to play fight, just play along. The older man knits his brows together, raising his hand and threatening to throw a punch or something, but the amused smile on his face says otherwise, “Yah, you brat—”  
  


It is then when Shinwon realizes the proximity between them. He catches Hwitaek’s outstretched hand easily above their heads, and now they are definitely just inches apart. The older’s smile drops just a little and his expression goes grimmer as Shinwon slowly puts their still-linked hands down, shuffles in a little closer until he can feel the older’s eyelashes brushing his cheekbone.

Hwitaek closes his eyes with an exhale. There is a speck of paint under his dark eye bags, meant to be mimicking a scar, much like the smear of dark red on the corner of his mouth, it contrasts nicely against pale skin. Shinwon feels his mouth go dry. He murmurs, “You really look like a vampire now, you know.”  
  


The older man laughs breathily. His eyes fan open, “That was the plan. You look like one, too.”  
  
Shinwon laughs too, but only through his nose. He meets Hwitaek’s eyes, honey-brown and fluorescent-bright, swallows the lump in his throat.

“Can I kiss you?” Shinwon asks, his voice dropping to barely a whisper now.

Hwitaek smiles wryly, “What’s stopping you?”  
  


The younger man swallows again. He lets out a shaky sigh and cups Hwitaek’s face with his free hand, pulls him closer and leans down to press their mouths together, hesitant yet warm. Their lips slide together in an all-too-familiar way, and Hwitaek tastes just like how Shinwon had remembered — semisweet and mint-cool (maybe that’s why he loves mint chocolate so much). It feels way too familiar, him pushing the older man against the wall of the bathroom, curling an arm around the older’s waist. He is vaguely aware that they are in public and _anyone_ could walk in right there right then, but at that moment he doesn’t care enough to think twice. 

Eventually they pull away to breathe, but Shinwon leans down to kiss Hwitaek again chastely. The older chuckles against his mouth and indulges him a little before pushing him away, turning to the mirror. Shinwon takes a look at the mirror, too. They both look frazzled and Hwitaek is a lot less put-together than he has been, and Shinwon takes pride in being the one to cause that. 

The older turns to him then, his voice hinging on a whine, “My lipstick’s all messed up now.”

Shinwon turns towards Hwitaek so they are facing each other. Hwitaek’s lips are kiss-swollen and spit-slick, glossy under the cheap LED lights in the bathroom, and he shrugs dismissively, “Aren’t you supposed to be a vampire?”

Hwitaek laughs. He balls his hand into a fist and punches Shinwon on the arm lightly, “You’re a brat, do you know that?”  
  


“You like it, though,” Shinwon only retorts in retaliation, relishing in how the older man flushes just slightly at the remark.

Then their moment is interrupted when the door is pushed open, the creak echoing in the bathroom. Hwitaek exchanges a panicked look with Shinwon. Shinwon is just glad that whoever just walked in didn’t barge in a few minutes earlier.

It is Hongseok. Of course it is Hongseok, and he has his hands on his waist, looking vaguely like a mother hen, and he purses his lips at the sight of the two. He narrows his eyes suspiciously, “What were you two doing?”

“Nothing,” Shinwon is quick to lie through his teeth even if there’s no way he could hide from Hongseok of all people. Hongseok only squints at them even more.

“What are you doing here, Hongseok-ah?” Hwitaek steps in with a sigh, trying to act more composed than he actually is. 

Hongseok looks at them calmly, “You were gone for a while. They sent me to go look for you.”  
  


Hwitaek nods, “Well, we’re here. Let’s go back to the dressing room, then.”

The man doesn’t move, standing in front of the closed door, scrutinizing them silently. Eventually he sighs, “You should get a stylist to fix your makeup. Tell them you washed your face or something.”  
  


With that, Hongseok turns on his heels, getting ready to leave. Shinwon and Hwitaek, however, exchange another look, feet planted to where they were. The older man elbows Shinwon, his voice in a stage-whisper, “I told you my lipstick’s all messed up.”  
  


Shinwon huffs out a puff of laughter. He faux-whispers back, “I never said it wasn’t.”

The older man shoots playful daggers up at him, digging his elbow into Shinwon’s rib cage. Shinwon lets out a mock cry in pain, and they end up almost toppling over in laughter. Hongseok, who has stopped walking, turns around and sighs again, a little louder this time, “Why are you still laughing? Anyone would have walked in. You were in public.”

“Well, no one did,” Shinwon mutters under his breath, but he ends up stepping towards the door anyway, “And what makes you think we were doing anything incriminating?”  
  


Hongseok gives him a look which reads _are you even serious right now,_ and Shinwon cowers away, just a bit. Hwitaek taps on his arm and mouths at him to _just go,_ so he does.

(Maybe, no, _definitely,_ Shinwon should care more, but at the same time, Hwitaek is probably the reason for all bad decisions he has made in the past. Maybe, no, _definitely,_ this is just one more to add to the collection.)

Effective communication has never been their strong suit, especially about things that actually matter. Shinwon isn’t surprised that they don’t talk about what happened on Halloween in the broadcast station, but there is an unsettling feeling in his heart that he cannot kick. The thought that the kiss meant a lot less to Hwitaek than it did to Shinwon scares him more than anything else — what if it was only a spur of the moment thing? Thoughts like these are constantly running in his head like the ink of a leaky fountain pen, bleeding out and smearing dark blue everywhere, and Shinwon’s head begins to go cloudy.

Finally, he realizes that he should be the one to talk to Hwitaek first for once, because it doesn’t seem like the other is going to anytime soon. The perfect opportunity comes when Hongseok goes over to Dorm B for the night to hang out with the kids, and Hyunggu is out with Seungyoun and Nathan and tends to only come back before the sun rises when that happens. Hwitaek is off somewhere in a dance studio rehearsing for _Lotto Singer,_ but Shinwon isn't a stranger to waiting up for the older when he comes back late at night. And so he waits in his usual spot (the couch) and tries to keep himself awake, watching random funny videos he finds on Youtube.

Hwitaek unlocks the door to their apartment after midnight. He doesn’t notice Shinwon initially as he toes off his shoes and throws his mask away, a water bottle gripped in his hand. He walks into the living room and makes a surprised noise at the sight of the younger man, “You’re still up?”

Shinwon looks up from his phone and puts it aside. He nods, “Yeah, I was meaning to talk to you.”  
  


“About what?” the older man asks, an eyebrow raised in question. He shuffles closer to the couch and ends up sitting on the floor, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his ankles.

At that moment, though, Shinwon feels himself go tongue-tied again. He licks at his bottom lip and smooths over the cracks, opening his mouth only to find himself silent. Hwitaek shifts patiently, gently urging him to go on.

_Did you only kiss me back on Halloween because you felt like it? What did the kiss, no, what do I mean to you, no, do I_ _still_ _mean anything to you?_

There’s a lot Shinwon could say. He could spit out every single question on his mind, let it all gush out at once like the ink of a broken pen, or a well-brewed-out rainstorm. But instead he settles on one single question, possibly the one he has meant to ask for so, so long—

“Hyung, why did we ever break up?”

  
A beat. There is a creak from where Hwitaek shifts uncomfortably on the wooden floor, and something restless flashes in his eyes. He says, “Why are you asking all of a sudden?”

Shinwon feels his insides burn up, like a glowing splint being set ablaze. He tries to keep it down but it stings in the hollow of his chest and above his stomach. He twists at a loose thread on his sweatshirt, loops it around until it digs into his skin. He looks away from Hwitaek, and says, “I’ve been meaning to ask for the past three years, hyung.”  
  


The older man stays silent. He, too, turns away, staring out the window, before he confesses in a whisper, “I don’t know.”

This time, Shinwon lets the fire inside him burn. He snaps his head towards the older, so quickly that he might have given himself whiplash, “You were the one who broke up with me.”

“I know.”

The younger man scoffs, “Then you should know.”

Hwitaek sighs, “Shinwon-ah, please, can we not talk about it? Not right now.”

There are tears stinging at Shinwon’s eyes, threatening to brim over. He tries to collect himself, and swallows the lump in his throat, “You know, you can just say something if it never meant anything to you. I wouldn’t mind if you told me that I’m just some kid you were stringing along because I liked you.”

“That’s not true,” Hwitaek is quick to argue, and he finally turns to Shinwon, “Of course you mean something to me.”

“Really?” Shinwon snorts, “Doesn’t feel like it to me.”  
  


“Shinwon-ah—”

“You know, I really thought we were going somewhere,” Shinwon cuts him off bitterly, “You didn’t have to hold my hand back at the radio station. You didn’t have to kiss me back that day. I get it now. I’m sorry for thinking that it meant more than it actually does.”  
  


Hwitaek looks at him for a long time. His eyes are shrouded with an indecipherable expression, then he hangs his head low. Shinwon hates how he still finds Hwitaek pretty even if he is so, so angry. The older man stands up quietly, picks up his bag that he has hazardously placed on a dining chair, fishes into it to find a mask. He is silent when he opens the door and steps out, clicking the door shut behind him softly.

Shinwon stares at the still-shut door. Something inside him crumbles, and for some reason, he starts laughing. He is the only one in the apartment but he still laughs like his life depends on it, laughs until his cheeks hurt from being stretched too widely and tears sting at his cheekbones. He has always been able to find humor in every situation, after all. This is just one of them.

-

Shinwon had gotten together with Hwitaek in spring. It was two springs ago, three, maybe, and they were preparing for their third comeback. He had been so on edge over it, almost started crying when Hyunggu got on his case for messing up a dance move. Hwitaek had dragged him out the practice room before he could burst into tears and into the GS25 across the street, sat him down by one of the plastic tables, bought them a can of Hite beer to share. He had sat with Shinwon until the younger had calmed down, his voice soothing and the hand he had placed on Shinwon’s knee grounding, and he had sent a text to the group chat and told the members that dance practice was over, at least for the two of them. Shinwon’s head had been blurry, ready to self-destruct with all the thoughts in his brain, but Hwitaek had caught him by the arm before he could fall, carefully put bandaids all over the places that hurt and smoothed over all the cracks before he could fall apart. 

Then, when they were back home, Hwitaek had kissed him straight on the mouth, right under the doorframe of their old dorm. And, because the older man was the first person Shinwon had seen right after he was pulled ashore (and he had always admired Hwitaek in a way that wasn’t how you would look at a teammate), he had kissed back.

They had settled into some sort of routine since then. It was an open secret in the group that Hwitaek and Shinwon were a _thing,_ Shinwon would spend nights in Hwitaek’s single room, on a bed far too small for two people, instead of the bunk he had shared with Hyunggu. Hwitaek didn’t have his own studio then, so Shinwon would spend long nights with him in the shitty studio with the shitty computer everyone had shared. It was comfortable. Shinwon likes to think that he had been in love.

(Shinwon likes to think that he knows Hwitaek better than anyone else. Hwitaek breathes wet through his nose and sighs all through the night when he is asleep, snuggled into Shinwon’s chest. Hwitaek prefers makgeolli over soju, but would finish all the somaek Shinwon would mix for him on the rare nights they would drink together, when they weren’t busy. Hwitaek is a picky eater and doesn’t like most foreign food, but doesn’t complain when Shinwon buys them hamburgers for dinner. Hwitaek cares way too much about what people think of him and would spend nights thinking about this one thing he thought he had done wrong too-long ago, but he says that Shinwon clears his mind better than anyone else can. Shinwon likes to think that Hwitaek, too, had been in love.)

They had been happy. Hwitaek was in a subunit with Hyuna and Hyojong then, and Shinwon would visit them in broadcast stations with the excuse of filming a video for the fans, but it was mostly because he had missed Hwitaek, and would wait up for Hwitaek and Hyojong at the dorms despite how late they would come back after a schedule. Hyojong had complained that Shinwon clearly stayed up for Hwitaek and Hwitaek only, but there was always an amused smile on his lips whenever he watched Hwitaek jump into the younger man’s arms after a long day of schedules. 

Their own group’s comeback, the one with _Critical Beauty,_ had also gone well — Shinwon barely remembers anything from that point now, but he does remember the time when Hwitaek cornered him in his room after a Vlive, and told him that they probably should be _a little more discreet._

Shinwon remembers protesting, “No one would suspect a thing, hyung.”  
  


Hwitaek had only smiled up at him, standing up on his tiptoes to press his lips to the corner of his mouth, and said, “I know. Maybe I just want to keep you to myself.”  
  
The younger man had agreed, though a little reluctant. That’s when he finally realized that he had a hard time saying no to Hwitaek, no matter what it was about. 

Hwitaek wrote two songs for this survival show. They became hits. Mega-hits, actually. At some point, when they were in Hwitaek’s bedroom, with the older snuggled in his chest, Shinwon had made a half-joke, “Don’t forget about me now that you are a famous producer, hyung.”

”I would never forget about you, Shinwon-ah,” Hwitaek had answered, and his eyes were so genuine that Shinwon had cowered away, just a little.

He laughed it off, “you should buy me more gifts and meals now that you’re rich.”

“Yah!” Hwitaek was smiling as he gave Shinwon a disapproving look, “You’re such a brat, Shinwon-ah.”

“But will you?”

Hwitaek had looked at him again, “I’ll always give you whatever you want even if I’m broke.”  
  


Shinwon can’t recall what exactly had happened after that, but he does remember leaning down to kiss the older man because it had felt appropriate. Maybe they _were_ in love.

They had broken up in winter. It was after their fourth comeback, when they were getting ready for their fifth. Hwitaek had cornered him in his bedroom, his eyes grimly serious, and had said that they should break up. Shinwon had wanted to say no but instead he just nodded dumbly, kissed back when Hwitaek pressed his lips to his for one last time. 

The members knew, but they didn’t talk about it. Hyunggu didn’t say anything when Shinwon returned to their shared bedroom after staying in Hwitaek’s for so long; Hyojong didn’t ask when Hwitaek dragged him along to late night convenience store trips when Shinwon used to be his first choice. It’s not like Hwitaek and Shinwon were not on good terms — they joked around like how they used to, as if nothing ever happened between them and they had been just friends from the start. The members took the hint and never brought it up again, like an unspoken agreement between them. 

Sometimes, Shinwon thinks that he is the only one who hasn’t gotten over it. Hwitaek had gotten on with a lot of people after their breakup: there’s his not-so-secret thing with Soojin, who Shinwon begrudgingly admits that is so beautiful that everyone would at least fall for her a little, there are a bunch of dongsaengs that Hwitaek had taken under his wing, that Shinwon had a hard time not being jealous over, he’s pretty sure industry sunbaes, noonas and hyungs alike, all swoon for the man. It’s like this: Hwitaek has a big heart. Everyone loves him, and in turn, he loves everyone back. Shinwon tells himself that he is in no position to deny that for the older man, doesn’t even think that he has the right to be jealous anymore.

It’s been three years. Shinwon should have gotten over it, but he hasn’t. There are far too many unanswered questions and he had been far too in love. And after three years, he has finally come to the realization that, maybe, he had never meant much to Hwitaek in the first place.

(But had he?)

-

Here’s something that Shinwon likes to think that he has forgotten about:

New Year’s Day. Cold winter winds. Hwitaek’s floppy purple hair, his sunken cheeks. Hwitaek’s studio, his oversized sweater, too-cold hands on too-cold skin. 

The company had given them a vacation after all their year-end activities. They had deserved it, after all — so much had happened that year, good things and bad things and half-good things and half-bad things. Hwitaek didn’t end up going, however, because the thought of resting alone had made him restless. Shinwon really didn’t have much planned, anyway, and it had hurt too much to see the older man struggle alone, so he decided to stay with Hwitaek in Seoul instead of going home.

“You really don’t have to,” Hwitaek had told him one night (it was the day before Christmas Eve, actually), when the older man felt bad for making Shinwon hole up in the studio with him and took him out for barbeque, “I’m fine. Really.”

“I just didn’t have anything to do,” Shinwon had dismissed, entirely focused on filling Hwitaek’s bowl with samgyeopsal as he did, “And maybe I just wanted free meals.”  
  


Hwitaek had glared up at him, but it was barely able to hide his amusement. He had said, “You’re paying tonight, you brat.”

Shinwon had paid the remark no mind. He really didn’t care about free meals and he never did, but it was Hwitaek who paid the bill that night anyway.

It was Shinwon who had stayed with Hwitaek throughout long nights in the studio, when the older man was struggling to finish writing a song. Wooseok had come back on Boxing Day after spending time with his family up in Gwangju, and the three of them had spent New Year’s Eve in Hwitaek’s studio together.

Ten minutes before midnight, Wooseok mumbled from his chair where he had been writing lyrics, “You know, it’s almost the new year.”

Hwitaek looked up from his computer and blinked, his eyes flickering to the clock on the screen and Shinwon could see the gears turning in his head, before the older man stood up, “Right. You two, go pull up a countdown livestream or something.”

Not letting the other two speak, Hwitaek started walking out of the studio. Shinwon had called after him, “Where are you going?”

The man had only grinned wickedly at the two of them as he slipped out of the room, “I’m not telling you.”  
  


The door was clicked shut, and Shinwon let out an exasperated sigh. He stood up and pulled up a countdown livestream on Youtube, like how he’s told. He muttered to Wooseok, “Aish, this hyung. He’s annoying, right?”

Wooseok cackled, amused, “Do you really think that, Shinwonie-hyung?”  
  


Shinwon had glared at the younger for that, but, really, he wasn’t wrong. They sat in the studio blankly staring at a countdown livestream, the over-excited host babbling on about how 2019 was going to be the best year ever. Shinwon had never been a huge fan of over-enthusiasm, so he only scoffed at that.

Three minutes before midnight, Hwitaek crashed into the studio, a single can of Hite beer in his hands. Shinwon scoffed again, “Did you seriously run downstairs to get one can of beer?”

Hwitaek rolled his eyes at that, “It’s not like I could get us champagne or anything. It’s the new year, cheer up a little bit, at least.”  
  


The younger man, in fact, hadn’t really cared. If anything, the can of Hite beer was enough to remind him of that night with Hwitaek, when they had first gotten together, and it had put him in a bittersweet mood, oddly nostalgic for New Year’s Eve. Then they watched the countdown together, and when the ball dropped, Hwitaek pulled open the can of beer. White foam rushed out and it left Hwitaek’s hands sticky and the floor wet, but none of them cared. Wooseok had cracked a joke about how it was basically their own cheap champagne, and Hwitaek had laughed at that, his eyes squeezing together happily. Shinwon had laughed along and emptied half of the can, despite the other two’s protests. Wooseok only ended up taking a sip from the drink that had been meant for three, before Shinwon had said that the younger was too young to drink (even if he had been an adult for long enough at that point) and shoved the half-full can into Hwitaek’s hands, making him finish the rest of it so _Wooseokie wouldn’t get drunk._ He still doesn’t know why he did that — maybe it’s the nostalgia. Maybe it’s his own selfish hope to keep single cans of Hite beer as a special thing between him and Hwitaek. 

The next night, it was only Hwitaek and Shinwon in the studio. Wooseok’s family had come to Seoul for dinner, so he had skipped out on the all-day studio sessions for once. Hwitaek had been growingly sensitive throughout the day, rubbing at already-bloodshot eyes, but Shinwon hadn’t had the heart to tell him to rest because he knew that the older man would just say no. When it was almost midnight, though, Hwitaek had slumped onto the table, letting out a frustrated groan, “I can’t do this anymore.”

Shinwon eyed him carefully, placed an equally careful hand on the older’s shoulder, “Are you okay, hyung?”

Hwitaek nodded into the table. He stayed in that position for a while before he eventually lifted his head with a sigh. His purple hair flopped over his half-droopy eyes, and he smiled just a little, “Happy new year, Shinwon-ah.”

“It’s almost midnight now,” Shinwon reminded him with a snort, “It’s barely new year’s anymore.”  
  


“Still is to me,” Hwitaek shrugged, gesturing at the clock, “It’s still the first.”  
  


Shoving his phone into the older’s face, Shinwon clicked his tongue, “One minute until the second, though.”

The other pushed the phone away, and his half-droopy eyes flickered up at Shinwon, “Do you know what people do on New Year’s Eve, though?”

“It’s not even New Year’s Eve anymore,” Shinwon countered, and looked at his phone again. It flashed just a little bit when the clock struck twelve, signaling a new day. He shoved it into Hwitaek’s face again, “See, it’s the second.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Hwitaek insisted, barely paying any mind to Shinwon’s phone screen. And, all of a sudden, the older man was merely inches away.

Shinwon felt his mouth go dry. He vaguely knew what the older was planning, but he didn’t shift away, instead shuffled in a little closer on his chair as he shoved his phone back in the pocket. He shook his head no, “Why don’t you tell me?”

And, for the first time in a long while, Hwitaek surged forward and pressed his lips to Shinwon’s. He lingered for a long time but he was hesitant, as if he was scared that Shinwon would push him away. And maybe Shinwon should have done so, but pushing the older away was never something he was good at, so he only let his eyes flutter shut.

Hwitaek pulled away and there was a small, hopeful smile on his face, his floppy purple hair still over his eyes, “Happy new year, Shinwon-ah.”  
  


The younger held back his smile, “It isn’t the new year’s anymore, though.”

“Oh,” Hwitaek’s face turned grim, his not-so-bright purple hair falling over his not-so-bright eyes, and he started moving away frantically as he had gotten burnt. 

But then Shinwon didn’t let him, leaned down and pressed his lips to Hwitaek’s. The kiss, unlike the hesitant and gentle one they had just shared, was fervent and, in a way, desperate, the younger man curling his arm around the older’s waist to pull him closer and swallowing down every single sound the older makes against his lips. 

He then pulled away, their foreheads pressed together, and he had smiled down at the older, “Happy new year, Hui-hyung.”

(If you asked Shinwon, he would say that he has forgotten about what had happened after. But here’s what happened: 

Shinwon waking up the next day in Hwitaek’s room, a duvet tucked delicately under his chin. An empty bed that smelt of sweat and the scent of their perfumes mixed together, a scribbled message on his bare arm which read _I’m at the studio. Come look for me when you wake up, if you still want to._ Him getting dressed and feeling incredibly empty as he washed his arm under icy cold water, rubbing hard until the pen marks were gone and his skin turned red. Him shivering the whole time in cold winter breezes on his way to the company. They never talked about it after that night.)

-

Things become sour between them. 

Now that the promotion period is over, rehearsals for the concert have become a lot more frequent, so it’s hard for them to avoid each other. In those rehearsals, though, Shinwon makes a point to talk to Hwitaek only if he needs to, and goes to Hyunggu for help when he needs to figure out a dance move. Hwitaek seems to have gotten the hint, or maybe he doesn’t exactly want to talk to the younger man too, and ignores him for the most part, letting Hyunggu deal with Shinwon during dance practices. 

They have a unit stage which they must prepare for, and at the end of the day, they are still professional idols, so it is only then when they would talk. Whatever they would say to each other, however, is strictly business — how they would want the lights to look at this particular part of the song, how the flow of the dance move should go, how they want their outfits to look. Usually Hwitaek has a lot of ideas and he would make everyone on board with them, but this time round he has a lot less to say; Shinwon who would be the one to argue with Hwitaek the most performance-wise (besides Hyunggu, at least) would agree almost immediately without trying to put up too much of a fight. It’s like they are two coworkers who are forced together to complete a project even if they didn’t know each other at all, which is way off from what they actually are. 

In front of the cameras, they act friendly. Everyone knows that they are close so the fans would notice if they are suddenly distant, so it goes unspoken that they will act like everything is fine for the cameras. Shinwon realizes that he is a lot better of an actor than he had thought he was when he manages to crack a joke with Hwitaek during an interview, thinks to himself that Hwitaek is an even better actor when the older leans in closer to his chest as he laughs as if it is a subconscious thing. Maybe they just don’t give each other enough credit.

Hwitaek doesn’t talk to Shinwon when he is at the dorms. Shinwon had moved back into his own bedroom after whatever had happened on that day, not wanting to have to see the older man whenever he comes home late, and also because his back had been hurting for a while. Shinwon locks himself into his bedroom when Hwitaek is about to be back, and the older man walks straight into his bedroom and stays there until he has to leave the next day (not that he has been home much, really. He has been staying in the studio a lot more lately). They are not exactly _hostile_ to each other — they are polite yet distant whenever they have to speak to each other. Shinwon wonders if it is only him who is holding a grudge, and Hwitaek is only putting up with him and playing along because they are in the same team and he doesn’t want to piss him off even more.

Slowly, the members start to notice. It starts off with Hyunggu — he is observant and almost always the first to know when something is wrong with a member, so Shinwon isn’t surprised when the younger comes cornering him one day, dragging him into his bedroom even if Hongseok is out at the gym and Hwitaek has not gone home yet, “What’s up with you and Hui-hyung?”

“Nothing is up,” Shinwon is quick to respond, pretending not to understand the long, suspicious look Hyunggu gives him, “Why?”  
  


Hyunggu rolls his eyes, like Shinwon is stupid for asking, “You two barely talked to each other today. Usually Hui-hyung would only be talking to you.”

“Hui-hyung doesn’t _only_ talk to me,” Shinwon says, but he is probably missing the point. 

“He pretty much does, yeah,” Hyunggu informs him matter-of-factly, “You could be, like, in the opposite corner of the room and he would still find a way to talk to you.”  
  


“That does not happen,” Shinwon mutters, “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not, and you know that very well,” Hyunggu says, “Just tell me what happened between you two.”

“Well, you can ask Hui-hyung what happened.”

The unimpressed look that Hyunggu shoots him tells him that he is being childish, but really, Shinwon doesn’t want to talk about it, so he tacks on, “He’ll give you the same answer. Nothing has happened.”  
  


Hyunggu eyes him carefully. Shinwon knows what the younger man is thinking about very well — after all, it’s not exactly a secret that he and Hwitaek were a _thing_ in the past. So he adds, “I know what you’re thinking about, Hyunggu-yah. It’s not that. Nothing is wrong.”

The younger softens and lets him go, but he does tell Shinwon that he is always there if he wants to talk. They go to the living room and put something on Netflix to watch together, an episode of an American drama that they have been meaning to watch. 

Halfway through the episode Hwitaek comes home. He is clad in a thick jacket, a mask covering almost the entirety of his face. His hair is messy, rid of any product, and the paper bag that he is carrying is almost stuffed full. Hyunggu looks away from the television momentarily to greet him, his voice upbeat and chipper, “You’re back, hyung?”

Shinwon doesn’t turn to look at Hwitaek, but he does hear the older’s dismissive hum in response to Hyunggu. He doesn’t say anything else as he shuffles into his bedroom, and Hyunggu exchanges a look with Shinwon before he launches himself off the couch, following Hwitaek into his bedroom and leaves Shinwon behind, staring at the television blankly.

When Hyunggu finally comes back, he gives Shinwon another suspicious look, “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Hui-hyung, but you two got to figure it out.”

“Nothing is going on,” Shinwon insists weakly, ignoring the incredulous look Hyunggu gives him.

“Funnily enough,” Hyunggu says, “That’s what Hui-hyung said, too. You two are funny, hyung.”

“What’s so funny about that?” Shinwon rolls his eyes. Hyunggu elbows him and they go back to watching (or, pretending to watch) TV.

It is Hongseok who notices next. Naturally, the four of them live in the same dorm, so Hongseok would probably know before anyone else in the group does (aside from Hyunggu). In front of Hyunggu, Shinwon can at least pretend that nothing is going on, but with Hongseok he cannot really lie too much. Both of them probably see through his excuses but Hongseok is older and he holds some sort of leverage over Shinwon as the hyung, even if he acts like a same-aged friend most of the time. When it is Hongseok who corners him with a serious expression Shinwon knows that there’s no way he can escape, just hopes that he will let him go sooner.

“Shinwon-ah, did you and Hui-hyung argue?” Hongseok asks right away, and all Shinwon can do is nod silently.

Hongseok purses his lips, and nods, “Was it about what happened on Halloween?”

Right — it had been Hongseok who found them on Halloween. He isn’t surprised that the older would assume, but Shinwon shakes his head anyway. Hongseok sighs and pats his arm, “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. But, Shinwon-ah, just know that there’s not a lot of time left, okay?”  
  


He does know that very well, but he also knows that he doesn’t want to talk to Hwitaek, not right now. He doesn’t know if the older will just push him away again when he summons the courage to talk to him, like the last time. He is just afraid that, maybe, he had been right when he said that he had never meant much to the older. But Hongseok doesn’t have to know that, so Shinwon just nods dismissively and tries to muster a smile, “I know. I’ll talk to him soon.”  
  


(He doesn’t.)  
  
When the date of the concert draws even closer, they are still not talking. It is probably unprofessional of them and it is affecting the team too when those in dorm B starts to catch on, casting the two of them worried glances. Shinwon pretends not to notice the hushed whispers between Hyunggu and Wooseok and Yuto and the long, concerned looks they give him and Hwitaek, or when Changgu tugs on Hongseok’s arm not-so-discreetly while pointing at the two of them. Yanan notices, too, but he doesn’t ask anyone about it. Instead he tries to involve the both of them in loud, excited conversations within the group, when they are all pretending that nothing is out of the ordinary, and it is only then when the two of them would actually kind of acknowledge each other. 

  
The thing is, Shinwon understands why the members are worried. Everyone in the team knows what had happened between him and Hwitaek in the past, but even then, they had never been awkward with each other. It is probably the longest they have gone without talking to each other, and Shinwon hates to admit that it is kind of affecting him more than he thought it would. And with Hwitaek’s enlistment looming ahead of them right after the concert, Shinwon really does get it when the members ask him what is wrong, and if there’s anything they can do to help (he usually outright refuses, denies that anything is wrong even if it is clear that he is lying). But Shinwon has decided that, this time, he wouldn’t be the one to give in first. If Hwitaek still doesn’t talk to him before he leaves, then, maybe, Shinwon had been right when he said he hadn’t really meant much to the older man in the first place. 

(Hwitaek comes home even less now. Hyunggu tells him that Wooseok had tried to drag him home on multiple occasions, but after consecutive failures he had given up on trying to wrangle. Shinwon pretends that he doesn’t care.)

Even _Jinho_ knows about the fight between them, and he calls Shinwon one day from wherever he is, his delivery leaving no room for disagreement, “You really need to sort things out with Hwitaekie, Shinwon-ah.”  
  


“What needs to be sorted out?” Shinwon mutters under his breath, falling onto his bed. He drags his throw blanket over himself so he can get comfortable, sensing that it is probably going to be a long conversation — now that Jinho has been in the military for a while now, his calls come a little less frequently than when he first got his phone back, and recently he prefers texting over calling. 

Jinho sighs, “You know what I am talking about.”

Shinwon does know, so he stops playing games, “What do you know, then?”  
  


“Wooseokie told me that you two had been fighting. I asked Hongseok, and he told me that you two did something… you shouldn’t at a broadcast station and hadn’t been talking since then.”  
  


Of course Hongseok did. Shinwon lets out a sigh, “So even _you_ know that I made out with Hui-hyung in a broadcast station. What’s with Hongseokie-hyung for telling you everything?”

“Hongseokie is just worried for you two,” Jinho chides, “And I’m not calling to lecture you about that. It’s your own decision. I just want to know what happened between you two. Hongseokie told me that you two seemed fine at first.”

“Did Hui-hyung tell you anything?” Shinwon asks, picking at a loose thread on his blanket.

“Hwitaekie refuses to say anything, that’s why I’m asking you,” Jinho says, “But I know he’s upset. And I know you are too.”

Shinwon hesitates, tugging at the loose thread until it rips off his blanket. He then admits quietly, “I asked him why he broke up with me.”  
  
This time, it is Jinho who goes silent. The older man doesn’t say anything for a long time, then he asks, “And he told you?”  
  


“He didn’t,” Shinwon tells him. He laughs bitterly into the phone, “That’s what happened. Now you know, Jinho-hyung. You’re the only one who knows now. Don’t go around telling Hongseokie-hyung or anyone now that you know.”  
  


Jinho goes quiet on the other line again. This time he stays silent for even longer, before he says decisively, “I’m going to talk to Hwitaekie.”  
  


“No, hyung, you don’t need to—” Shinwon is quick to say, sitting up on the bed as he does.

“I’m talking to Hwitaekie,” Jinho says firmly, “I’m going to talk to him, and you two will sort things out after. Got it?”  
  


Shinwon slumps back onto his bed defeatedly, “Okay, hyung.”

  
“Good. But, hey, Shinwon-ah—”

“Yeah?”

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

Jinho hangs up after that, leaving dial tones ringing in Shinwon’s ear. He sighs to himself, turns to lie on his side, and closes his eyes.

He doesn’t know what has happened after. Hwitaek doesn’t talk to him still, Jinho hasn’t reached out just yet. He does hear from Hongseok, though, that Jinho had tried calling Hwitaek on multiple occasions but had gotten hung up on every time as he always manages to call whenever Hwitaek is in the middle of something. He has been seeing Hwitaek even less, now. Concert rehearsals are less frequent now, and they have been almost done with the preparation for their duet stage, so there’s no reason for them to talk or even to look at each other, if they were to carry on giving each other the cold shoulder. Almost a week after his conversation with Jinho, however, he gets another call from the older, and he sounds dead serious when he says, “You need to talk to Hwitaekie now.”  
  


“Can’t it wait?” Shinwon dismisses, pausing the episode of an American drama he is watching on Netflix.

“Shinwon-ah, he is leaving soon,” Jinho reasons with him, “It can’t wait for too long.”  
  


“Why can’t it be him who talks to me first?” Shinwon counters, and he sighs, “I don’t know, hyung. I just don’t think it always needs to be me who gives in first.”  
  


“I know, I know,” Jinho lets out a sigh too, “But Shinwon-ah, just know that whatever he had said to you that night, he didn’t mean it, okay? Whatever you’re thinking is not true. I promise.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shinwon dismisses. Something inside him crumbles again, and he hangs up on Jinho before the older can say anything else. He tosses his phone somewhere onto his cupboard, clicks play on his laptop, and carries on watching the episode as if nothing is wrong. He can’t concentrate much, and he would probably have to rewatch that later, but it does distract him enough. 

(When Hwitaek returns to the dorms that night, Shinwon is still awake and on his fourth consecutive episode of the drama, but he pretends not to hear the older enter the apartment. It’s probably better off that way.)

-

After a long dance practice session with the group, Hwitaek corners Shinwon when everyone else has left the practice room. One part of Shinwon flares up with silent anticipation, relishing in the fact that the older seems to have finally given in, that for the first time, it is him who is holding the cards. But then when Hwitaek opens his mouth, his voice is polite and stiff as he asks, “Do you mind staying behind? I think we should start practicing for our stage again.”  
  


If there had been a spark in Shinwon’s heart, then it must have been an illusion. He feels his heart freeze cold, but Hwitaek is right — they do need to start practicing again, so he nods curtly at the suggestion. Hwitaek closes the door of the practice room and shuffles over to the speakers to play the song, and they settle into rehearsal mode. Shinwon had been exhausted from the previous dance practice with the rest of the group and he is constantly distracted, but Hwitaek doesn’t say anything when the younger man trips over his feet in an attempt to memorize a certain move, only shuffles to the speakers to play the song once more wordlessly.

Throughout the long hour, Shinwon thinks that, perhaps, Hwitaek would drop the act and actually talk to him. But he gets let down every time he lets his hopes up so he decides that he has had enough, marching over to the speaker and turning off the song when Hwitaek is rehearsing a verse over and over. The older’s head snaps up at him, surprised, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I think I’m gonna go home,” Shinwon tells him, “I’m really tired. Are you coming with?”  
  


Hwitaek looks at him for a long time, regarding him with unreadable eyes. Eventually he nods, shoving his phone into his pocket and picking up his bag that is lying next to the mirror, “Let’s go, then.”  
  


The walk back to the dorm is painfully awkward. They haven’t walked home together in a long time, and the last time they had, they were laughing the whole time, with Hwitaek clinging to his arm. But this time Hwitaek drags out his pace and Shinwon is brisk as he walks so it feels more like they are merely two passer-bys who happen to cross paths and take the same route home, and Shinwon ends up arriving at the door before Hwitaek does. One part of him doesn’t have the heart to slam the door right into the older’s face so he waits up for him in the doorway, trying to seem indifferent as Hwitaek finally arrives too, his eyes widening as if he is surprised that Shinwon had waited up for him. He hangs his head low when he enters the apartment, the door being held open by the younger, murmurs _“thank you”_ under his breath.

And, if he is being honest, Shinwon has grown sick of it. Maybe, at the end of the day, it will always be him who would give in at last, but he supposes that he can’t do anything to change it if Hwitaek will keep on being this stubborn, so he gathers all his half-mustered courage and tugs the older man back by the wrist before he disappears into his bedroom again, “Hyung, I think we need to talk.”  
  


The older man’s eyes flashes with surprise. He doesn’t pull his hand away as he shifts uncomfortably, “I didn’t think you would want to talk to me anymore.”  
  
Shinwon gives the other a half-smile, a little sardonic, “How could I stay mad at you?”  
  


Hwitaek blinks, and something indecipherable washes over his features. He nods at last and gestures at the couch, sits down on the floor by the end of it.

Settling down onto the couch, Shinwon crosses his legs and tilts his head down to look at the older man. Hwitaek opens his mouth, then closes it, as if he is summoning the right words, and then he finally says, “I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Shinwon tells him automatically, though it scares him that it is his immediate response. Maybe he really can’t stay mad at the older man.

“No,” Hwitaek shakes his head, “I just—”

“I don’t need you to apologize to me, hyung,” Shinwon says. He shifts on the couch and leans his head back onto the cushions, “I just want to know what happened to us.”

Hwitaek hesitates. He reaches up to scratch at his nose, then he says, “You didn’t do anything. It’s all on me.”

“Hyung, if you are just going to be vague, I don’t see the point in us talking,” Shinwon huffs, watching as the other shifts under his gaze, still hesitant.

The apartment is silent for a long time. Somewhere in the kitchen, the fridge hums impatiently as if it is listening to their conversation. It all blends into white noise and Shinwon’s thoughts are way too loud in his brain for him fo focus and—  
  


“You know, I’d always thought that we weren’t going to last.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  


Hwitaek quirks his lips into a semisweet smile, and he looks away from Shinwon and out the window. The roads are busy even at midnight in Seoul, and the sweet artificial glow of the streetlights looks like the glow of the stars from faraway. Shinwon follows the older man’s eyes and looks at the view, too. Then Hwitaek exhales, still staring out the window pensively, “I felt like— eventually, you’re gonna get tired of me. You were, and still are, so young and I’m just this guy who you were stuck with. We got together when you needed someone, but I was scared that at one point you’d realize that you didn’t need me around anymore. I didn’t want that to happen, so I ended it before it could.”  
  
Shinwon gapes down at the older man, “Why would you think that?”  
  


“I don’t know. Sometimes thoughts like these clog my head up and I just give in to them when it gets too much. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”  
  
It had, in fact, hurt Shinwon a lot. But then he remembers what Jinho had said to him that night, that thing about the leader complex, and how Hwitaek would keep himself awake at night over small things that shouldn’t matter anymore. Maybe he is not the only overthinker between them. Maybe there’s a lot that he still doesn’t know.

“When you broke up with me, I really thought I did something wrong,” Shinwon tells him, also looking out the window and no longer at Hwitaek, “I spent the last three years wondering if I had done anything that made you hate me, but you just kind of pretended that nothing had ever happened between us until I was almost convinced too. I should be mad at you, but I’ve realized that I can never stay mad at you for long enough.”  
  


“You should be mad at me,” the older man says softly, and he averts his gaze to his lap, scrutinizing the drawstrings of his sweatpants, “I thought you would be. But you never were.”  
  


“I told you, I can’t stay mad at you,” Shinwon sighs, finally turning to look at the older again. Hwitaek hangs his head low, seeming smaller than he already is, and Shinwon gets off the couch to plop down next to him, their thighs brushing. The older man looks up at him, astonished, but a smile ghosts at his lips. 

Even if they are sitting side by side, Hwitaek still feels distant. Shinwon tilts his head to take a proper look at the man who he once (still) loved (loves), reaches over to place his hand on his thigh. The older man’s mouth drops agape, but he doesn’t say anything. Shinwon says, “Maybe that’s because I still feel the same as I did three years ago.”  
  


“And that is?” Hwitaek raises an eyebrow, his voice fading with every word.

“I think I still like you, Hwitaekie-hyung. Do you?”

The older man still remains silent, but he nods. It’s dark in the living room and Shinwon can barely see the way his head dips down in confirmation, but it is already enough.

Shinwon leans in real close, until he can feel the way Hwitaek breathes wet through his nose against his skin, then he says, “I don’t want you to push me away anymore, hyung.”  
  


Hwitaek’s lips curl into a wider grin. He whispers back, “I can do that.”  
  


“Good,” Shinwon nods in approval, leans in to close the gap between them. There is nothing but air between them anymore, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Hwitaek still tastes the same but only sweeter, and the satisfied sound he makes from the back of his throat sounds even better than all the love songs and non-love songs the man has written. 

The kiss becomes more heated, the slide of their lips no longer gentle. When Shinwon’s hand sneaks up Hwitaek’s shirt, warm hands on cold skin, the older man eases off him, his eyes half-glazed over, “Not here.”  
  


Reluctantly, Shinwon pulls away and holds out a hand to pull the older to his feet. He drags them both to Hwitaek’s bedroom. It feels familiar but new at the same time when Hwitaek locks the door behind them and Shinwon crowds him against it, their breaths heavy.

Everything feels familiar. It still feels familiar when he falls asleep with the older in his arms, but Shinwon also thinks he might be dreaming when he opens to see Hwitaek still curled around him the next morning, feet tucked into his. He still feels like he might be asleep when Hwitaek opens his eyes and smiles up at him sleepily, “Morning.”

Shinwon stares down at the older man in disbelief, but he draws the man even closer with his arms. After a long while, he manages to muster a joke, “Not gonna write a note on my arm this time?”  
  


Hwitaek blinks up at him. He curls his lips upwards, amused, gently peels himself away from the younger and reaches over to his bedside table, where a pen lies. He picks it up and pulls Shinwon’s wrist towards him, scribbles something onto his bare skin, his tongue darting out when he concentrates. He tosses the pen onto the floor mindlessly when he is done, and asks simply, “Happy now?”  
  


The younger man laughs. He turns his wrist over and squints at it, smiles to himself when he sees Hwitaek’s messy handwriting which reads _“I love you”._ It’s cheesy, painfully so, but it doesn’t stop him from leaning down to kiss the older chastely, just to make sure that he really isn’t dreaming.

He pulls away, smiles down at Hwitaek again. He responds, “Very.”

**Author's Note:**

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